Punching Above Your Weight
by MaraudersAtHeart
Summary: You already knew that she was too good for you but you didn't care if you were 'punching over your weight' you loved her, and you were given a chance – several at that. Preuqel to 'M.B.E.B' Draco and Amelia's break up.


**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Draco Malfoy, o r the Universe of Harry Potter, JKR does. I own Amelia Scarletta dn teh plot though. _

**Rating**: M

**Word Count: **5, 427** –** is how much the actual one-shot is, the rest is the 'A/N's and the summary.

**Summary: **You already knew that she was _too good for you_ but you didn't care if you were '_punching over your weight_' you loved her, and you were given a chance – several at that.

**Warnings**: Swears _badly_.

**Beta:** no, any mistakes are mine.

**A/N:** Prequel to 'My Letters To My Brown Eyed Beauty', how Draco and Amelia break up. How life was for Draco during his repeat of Seventh Year.

**Punching Above Your Weight**

You turned to your best friend Blaise Zabini with one of those small and rare smiles you give to only them that hold a place in your heart, and only a few do these days. You're in a really good mood, and you don't want to stop feeling like you're on '_cloud nine_,' you used to hate those _infuriating _Muggle sayings, but you don't anymore and it makes Blaise smile a bit to know you were changed for the _better_.

"Which ones are you getting?"

You shrug at Blaise's question; here you are, at a Muggle Shop – a _Flower _Muggle Shop at that, that you are vaguely aware is called a '_Florist_' – trying to pick out flowers. You are in the _Rose_ section and you just _can't_admit that you don't know which one to pick.

You remember one of those conversations you had with her two years back, when you were still having the 'Fuck-And-Then-Get-The-Hell-Out' relationship; you had just had the most mind-blowing sex you could imagine. You both didn't want to be the first to tell the other to get out. You were vaguely aware that this wasn't your flat yet.

_It will be yours by the end of the week, it's still under Blaise's name, and you officially move in on Saturday – with Blaise away for the next three days, you had decided to call your dear Fuck Buddy. It had gone exactly as planned, she had knocked on the door, and you had opened it._

_You let her in, and you sat on the couch – it wasn't long, you knew it was well after eleven o'clock, and nobody stayed awake this long without purpose, and you definitely had a purpose – and you talked a bit, drinking the Firewhisky as you did so._

_It wasn't long until your alcohol-controlled brain decided it was '__**boring**__' and you smashed your dry lips to her soft ones._

_You don't remember how you managed to make it to the bed in the bedroom down the hall, but you remember a lot of stumbling and a lot of grinding and many, many drunken and slurred kisses._

_You remember waking up after you dozed off, after the best sex you'd had in over a week, you had realised she was awake, and wasn't as close to you as she had when you both decided to take a quick nap. You turned your head, and watched silently, a bit transfixed as she stared at the ceiling. You couldn't help but think; __**beautiful**__._

_She's always been beautiful to you, even when you were eleven – you never admitted it back then, and you hadn't that night – not without arguing that you were still __**half-asleep**__ and not at all thinking straight._

Though you were, and you would admit it now – she's bloody beautiful and you are glad that you can say – as you have been saying since back in April last year that she was **yours **not Finnegan's or Thomas' or any other guy's, but **yours** – and that is all that mattered.

_But back then, she hadn't been._

"_A sickle for your thoughts," you whisper in the darkness of your almost-bedroom (reminding yourself, that by Saturday, it's yours), a question that isn't answered when you ask Blaise or Theo, but answered when you ask __**her**__._

"_Just thinking about things...," she whispers back to you, not at all believing your listening but continues with; "this boy asked me out the other day, with a __**bloody red rose**__. It was sweet – but that was cliché, a 'red rose', seriously? Couldn't be more un-original?"_

"_You liked it, I bet you did," you teased her, nudging her shoulder with yours – you can't fight the strange feeling that erupts in the pit of your stomach, that you recognise as __**jealousy**__. You know she's talking about a Muggle, but you aren't sure if you are allowed to be jealousy – Muggle or not, she isn't yours._

_You don't have the right, even if your whole body is screaming that she should be, and that you can't let her leave tonight without making her yours._

_**She's mine even if it's only in my dreams.**_

_She shrugs one shoulder and then turns her head towards you, her brown hair falling in front of her face as she giggles quietly, "You aren't jealous, are you Malfoy?"_

_You find you __**have to**__ say 'no' but knowing she knows when you lie – hell, she just knows __**you**__ and that's enough to say, "I'm jealous...," and admit it to her, and then add, because it's true; "But not because I believe I can never compete with whoever he is – I don't want to know, I might beat him up – but because I admire that he had the courage to ask you to be yours and I never will."_

_She looks at you, silently thinking to herself what on Earth you were implying – but you don't help her._

_After what seems like an hour, she whispers into the silence, which was previously filled with both of your steady breathing, and she says; "I hate cliché things, but I can't help but find them cute, if they aren't trying to be all mushy and romantic, I like it if they __**know**__ they're being cliché because I like it regardless of how cliché it is."_

_You don't realise you are doing it, but the scene in front of you, you sketch into your mind; she lay there, fiddling with your fingers, you know she wants to kiss them, but doesn't, for fear you will be angry with her for showing affection – affection you are aching to show her, but you do it subtly, and you like that she can't pick it up...but at times you are upset that she can't._

_She has a small smile playing on her lips as she said that little 'speech' of hers._

_You both lapse into silence again, but it was comforting, as it has been since you started this bizarre arrangement – you'll never admit it (_at least you thought so back then_) but your life revolves around these moments, where you remember the smiles she sends to the bed sheets, or the way your heart pounds on your ribcage; you chose to hide the feelings that grew every time she said your name._

_Her voice breaks you out of your trace, "I prefer purple roses to red ones any day."_

_You thought it was bizarre that she rather a purple rose than a red rose, but you didn't ask, because you loved originality._

"Purple," you are unaware you murmured the answer to Blaise's question, but are aware that your hand picks out a single purple rose, though it wasn't a deep purple more a lilac colour than anything. You can't hear Blaise's response – he knows this – and you walk towards the counter.

You have a little bit of Muggle money on you, you remember learning all the currency for her when you both officially started dating, _for real this time_, and that was in April last year, a year and a half ago.

You don't regret it, it was the _**best**_ decision you made in all of your life. You contemplated it that night in your soon-to-be-flat what your priories in your life were. You had a lot going on that year...you had been given a mission, a mission you deeply regret.

It wasn't because you had _failed_ your parents and the Dark Lord, no it was because you let your godfather do it instead, and in a result to that, he died. You blame yourself for that, which was truly a failure; you let him die for what you should have done.

You didn't let it consume you for long though – not with her help, she was always there, much like Blaise, helping you.

She never left your side, and you thank her every day for not giving in when the Hogwarts students taunted her for dating you, because you were a Death Eater. You were thankful that she didn't fall under the pressure.

You remind yourself that she was _worthy_ to be placed into Gryffindor for her bravery. Even during that night, during the heated kisses, she knew of your Mark. She knew what was happening – it was around her – but she didn't care, maybe she loved you all along and you didn't see it then.

"Are you sure you want the Purple one," you look up and there stands a girl with blonde hair. She had dark blue eyes a light freckles on the bridge of her nose – you tried to shake the memory of what you saw in the Great Hall...you saw the Weasleys surrounding the one person you thought was bearable to be around, you loved his jokes (though you never told him), you were there for his funeral )not that anyone but Amelia and Blaise knew this). You hadn't been ready, but when you realised who it was, you even shed a few tears – this girl made you remember that scene.

You read her name tag and it said, '_Chelsea_'. You nodded to her, realising you were taking so long. You hadn't been checking her out, more trying to fight off what 'freckles' made you remember. You remember his lifeless body, and you remember being _responsible_ for it.

You were responsible for his older brother's scar, you let the Death Eaters in that night – albeit you didn't know that Greyback was coming...if you did, you wouldn't have done it, much less go up to the Astronomy Tower and commit your first murder, you didn't do the last thing and that is why Potter let you off, and you didn't go to Azkaban with your sorry excuse of a father.

"Do you know what Purple Roses represent?"

You stared at 'Chelsea' for sometime before shrugging, but you didn't ask, Blaise did; "what does it mean, Chelsea?"

You knew he was flirting, even when you knew that he had a major crush on a girl called, Andria. You don't remember her much, but she had been at one of the Balls that Blaise's mother had held – everyone had been there, Daphne had sent you a smile, reminding you that you had changed and that she liked that.

She liked who the Gryffindor had made you, and you had only smiled in return saying, "I love her."

Daphne still wants to organise your wedding, but you weren't sure if you were going to ask – your mother still believes that you will grow out of Amelia, like you have with every _other_ girl, and that you were '_coming to your senses soon_.'

You understand what Daphne was saying now, you refuse to believe your mother – you were ready _now_, you weren't at the Ball that night, but you are _today_.

Chelsea giggles at Blaise and says, staring directing at him, and bating her eyelashes, "it means you fallen in love, with the person you gave it to, at first sight."

"Huh," you hear Blaise say, but you hardly hear it.

Had she been implying that when she said Purple Roses were her favourite?

You didn't have time, you promised to meet Amelia in fifteen minutes. You had to find a safe place to apparate, you handed Chelsea the right amount of money – not that she was paying attention, just flirting with Blaise, and couldn't care if you just _took_ the flower.

Flowers may be useless, you think over and over, but you remember the way Amelia's eyes were alight when you passed the Florist two days ago, especially when she saw the Purple Flowers. The one you're currently holding, she had been staring at for some time, before proceeding to take you to the Cafe down the street.

You take a little over six or seven minutes to find a place where Muggles are _not_ around, and scold yourself for not being faster, before you apparate away.

You arrived out of the Hogwarts grounds, and you knew you had to be faster, you promised to meet her, and tonight, in no more than two hours, you graduate and get away from the stares – and many, many whispers.

You don't care about them, you only care about those who hold that place in your heart, and the stupid little third years don't, Slytherin or not, they're all infuriating.

You listened to your mother in August, and went back to school the following September, and you were fucking glad to be away from the stares, not that they don't stare at you in Diagon Alley, they do.

It wasn't long until you found her in the Main Yard, sitting on the ground, talking to her two best friends; Jessica West and Liana Baker, both of which never liked you, and were sneering at you. You see the girl behind them had once been friends with the two – but barely even speak with Amelia – she liked you, and thought you were good for Amelia.

She was silently telling you to be careful, but you didn't understand.

Amelia looked up and you can see the barely-there tears, but you can see them. A look of concern floods your features and you don't notice West and Baker glaring at the flower in your hand. You can feel the stares though, you can see Granger in the distance shaking her head, and mouthing, 'I'm sorry'.

She has been a little off since Potter and Weasley went to become Aurors, after the Battle.

Amelia stood up so fast, and nudged your arm, and practically ran off towards the Lake. You were scared something bad had happened, you didn't know what you were walking into.

You found her standing by the oak tree, and when you moved closer, she looked up. She looked void of emotion and it hurt, you know how she feels now when you close off emotion. You always think you're helping her when you do that, you never are, and now you know how it feels.

You moved closer, but she held up a hand signally not to get closer than five feet. You didn't understand, even when you bore the Mark for the first time, and she saw it – no matter how hard you tried that night to keep your shirt on, she saw – never had she wanted to keep her distance from you, and it shattered your heart just a bit.

There was something about this silence that made your heart shatter that little bit more.

"What's going on Amy," you ask in a quiet voice, because shouting never got you anywhere. When one of you is sad, if you shout, you get in a fight easier. Yes, when you were sixteen, if you fought, it turned both of you on, but right now you just wanted to know what or who upset the woman you love.

It's not the words that come out of her mouth next that hurt you the most, no; they were words you used yourself many times, especially on that one clingy girl that wouldn't leave you alone. You used them so many times – never ever felt a thing for the girls when they began to break done in front f you. They cried, and cried and you didn't give a shit.

You always turned and walked away, never even glancing back. So those words never affected you as much as they affected those girls you would say it to.

You felt your heart shatter completely, and your eyes showed how much two words could case you.

Those two words never did anything to your heart before, no matter how many girls you said it to, they hadn't meant much to you, and so their crying was just a scene in one of the movies Amelia would lend you. There were many crying girls in them, but what you loved the most was watching scary movies.

Muggles had it better; they didn't know 'Crucio' and their torture didn't turn you insane, just scared out of your wits. You loved these movies, but not because of the way Muggles see the definition of 'Scary' they had never met his Aunt Bellatrix – he thanks Mrs. Weasley silently every day, that she's gone – if they had, surely they would have 'her' as the definition of scary and creepy.

Vile and crazy are good words too.

But during these scary movies, he could wrap his arms around Amelia, as she covered her eyes, scared. You don't know how many times you murmur, 'you're safe, I've got you. Nothing can touch you' on those nights. But you cherish those nights with all your heart.

Was she really throwing three years away – he knew her better than he even thinks her father does, and fathers know their daughters best. She knows him better than his mother or Blaise could ever know him, and Blaise knows him, but not as well as Scarlett ever had – and she's throwing it all away?

"I'm sorry Draco, but I can't – we can't."

You weren't listening to her _fucking _explanation, you were a bit angry at her for giving up just like that after all that has happened during this year. You can't believe she is throwing away all those times you had together, the many times you made her smile or laugh. She's fucking throwing them away, and you just want to be anywhere but here.

You remember the first time you kissed her, you hadn't meant to do it that night – but you don't regret it now, if you hadn't, you'd never be here, well...you know what I mean.

_You had been sitting right up close to the lake, dipping your feet in, you were only supposed to be staying at Hogwarts for those first two weeks, before you'd go home – and take a hold of your '__**Fate**__'._

"_Bloody __**brilliant,**__" you muttered to yourself, you weren't as sure as you had been a week or so ago.  
You had been dead set on it; the minute you overheard your parents, during Christmas last year, you over heard them. Heard your Father had failed the Dark Lord._

_You heard your parents say the only way, is for you to join, and prove the Malfoy worth.  
You'd smirked, and walked back to your room. You were intent on finding ways for the Dark Lord to be pleased with you._

_The first person you told was Blaise; you could tell he was struggling between 'congratulating' you or scolding you, telling you 'yo__**u**__ don't know what you're getting yourself into'. Blaise scowled for a minute, as you stood in his bedroom, but in the end, Blaise had taken up a blank look and didn't share his opinion. _

_Knowing it would enrage you; he closed his mouth and didn't offer it. _

_Now, you think you're wondering if Blaise made a point, but in a week's time – you don't have to worry. _

_You will see the Dark Lord, and know your place in this world. _

_You didn't know your place was beside __**her**__, wrapping your arms around __**her**__. _

_She hadn't seen you when she stumbled along the ground, but when she went to do as you did – dip her feet in the water – she hadn't even taken off her socks, when your eyes connected and she yelped, falling into the lake. _

_You didn't think you were a scary sight, that you had frightened her. You didn't know that all she could see was your grey eyes, nothing more or less._

_That is what frightened her. _

_You didn't know what made you do it – you blame your acts on pure instinct, there was nothing behind your actions._

_You took off your shirt and jumped in after her. You didn't trust the Giant Squid for one second. _

_You managed to pull her onto the land._

_She lay there, coughing for some time, you didn't notice. You were leaning above her, concern in your grey eyes. _

_You hadn't been this close to her since third year, when you officially decided that friendship never worked between Gryffindors and Slytherins._

_You both look upon that time as friends, in shame; you kind of hate each other now. _

_Though looking at her now, you realise that all the hatred only came from when she told you being friends creates problems for each of you. _

_You used to be angry with her for it, and went and found Potter, and did some nasty trick on him – he could see there was another reason for your anger, and it wasn't because you believed Potter was a spoilt brat – you do now, still – in that moment you had been angry at yourself._

_At the Hat for sorting her in Gryffindor, but you thank the Hat right now..._

_You stared down at her, for some time, and when you went to ask if she was okay, she sat up, coughing a bit as she did so. "I'm fine," she rasped, but somehow you knew it was a lie._

_And in those two years, you stopped being friends, you realised you can't pick anything up...until now. You knew she was lying by the look on her face, she made it easy._

"_Draco," she whispered and you didn't know that feeling that sparked in your stomach when she said your name – you must have missed it. All you hear these days in a bitter and hateful 'Malfoy' leaves those soft lips of hers. _

_You don't know if they're soft though, and somehow you want to know – and you do something that you thought, when it was over, you'd be awkward to each other and pretend it never happened._

_You didn't know you were digging a hole for yourself when you claimed her lips as yours, rightfully so. _

You look back and remember when you ended that kiss, you were the one who growled out; "_That was a mistake, and it will never happen again__**."**_

But three nights later, you got drunk, and slept with her. When you came back to your senses you said the same thing, but you didn't know that somehow, you'd see her a week before you were branded. You were stressed, and conflicted.

She confused you more, but you slept with her again. You said it was a _mistake _again, and promised it would never happen again. A day before you were branded, you wanted to feel like a 'Free Man', went to a club with Theodore Nott and partied until you were off your face – and you slept with her again.

A week after you were branded, the same happened. You made sure; she didn't take your shirt off though – feeling oddly guilty for the Mark.

You swore once she got out of the room, and you came to your senses, you swore it had nothing to do with her and what she would say. It happened three more times, each a few days apart, she managed to convince you to take the shirt off. When she saw though, she acted indifferently, and you did what she had done the previous time, you slept with her.

Somehow, by the time Sixth Year started – you well into being a Death Eater – you had come to a silent agreement that it was just to vent frustrations. You needed it too; you were given a mission that would change your life.

You look back on the time when she asked if anything was wrong, she began to know you, began to un-riddle you. One day, you didn't care, and told her the mission – told her the reason you're still a Death Eater, she understood.

"_No matter what my father has done to me, I'll still go along with his charades, because if it saves her life__**. I'd do anything."**_

You remember explaining when you wanted out – that they threatened your mother's life, so you stayed. You made a vow to Amelia though, that you wouldn't kill a soul.

You wouldn't take an innocent life – and you had fully intended to do that. But then you remember your mission, and you cried in front of her, knowing if you didn't kill Dumbledore, _He_ would kill your mother.

When the night came – the night where Bill Weasley was scratched by Greyback, the night you let the Death Eaters in – you remembered hesitating when you were to kill Dumbledore.

You look back with gratitude to your godfather Severus; you didn't break your promise, your _vow_ to Amelia.

You look back at Amelia, and she's biting her lip, for fuck's sake, you wish she wouldn't do that. She _knows _what it does to you.

You already knew that she was _too good for you_ but you didn't care if you were '_punching above your weight_' , but you loved her, and after the chance she gave you – several in fact, you thought this time 'round was different.

You stare at Amelia, not hearing her explanation for breaking up with you. You feel tears prickle at your eyes, but you don't cry, you silently hand her the flower, as she objects, you wave a hand. "It's yours, I have no use of it now," you wince inwardly at how hollow your voice is; you didn't even cover up how much she hurt you.

How much it still aches, how much your heart is shattered.

You silently walk away, and realise that all those people – they had witnessed it. They silently congratulated Amelia on '_getting away from you_.' You know what you did, but their stares and whispers, didn't help.

You remember fighting on the Dark Side – but you also remember _fighting for the Light_. You remember that you ran down the Great Hall...all wands pointed at you, but they realise you aren't holding a wand.

_You ran like your life depended on it, you could feel the aching bones in your feet, but you pushed further. When you made it to the Great Hall, you threw open the doors – all eyes darted to you. All wands pointed at you, but you couldn't care less._

_You didn't have a wand, and you knew you were no threat. _

_When you spotted her light brown hair, she was always the oblivious one; she didn't even know you had entered. But when she noticed that wands were pointed behind her, she turned._

_When your grey eyes connected with her beautiful brown ones – you couldn't help but sketch the picture into your mind, and think yet again; __**beautiful**__._

"_Draco," she questioned quietly. She didn't know what side you were on, and you wanted to scream out that you were always on her side._

_You never had a side, as long as you were standing beside her, the world ceased to exist. _

_You cut off her last sentence, by running straight towards her – ignoring the eyes and the many wands. You wrapped your arms around her, you were aware that you made both of you stumble over, but if she didn't mind, neither did you. _

"_Draco" you cut her off my claiming her lips as yours once more. Her lips were dry, but so were yours, and this kiss showed everything, said everything. _

_It was clumsy, but you always loved her kisses. And the way she smelled, it was intoxicating, it always had been. You managed to pull away, just an inch away, and your noses brushed and you breathed out the three words that had been on your mind since you started running. _

"_I love you," and you know you were being extremely cliché – running towards her, and wrapping your arms around her, and falling over, kissing her 'till your hearts contempt, and then saying 'I love you'. You knew, and you couldn't care less at the moment – especially not when she grinned and said, "A lot for emotion for you Malfoy," you tried to protest but she kissed you softly and said; "Love you too, Prat." _

_You smiled relieved, and it turned seemed when she said; "This is horribly cliché."_

_You loved the fact that she loved cliché things, and she knew that you did it on __**purpose**__. You love her._

You can't pin-point when you fell in love with the Gryffindor Blood Traitor, but when you did, she changed your life. You remember that a smile can change people – you had always had doubts about if you ever liked her or hated her.

Even when you stopped being 'friends'. You didn't talk the two years you were, you talked when you wanted, it didn't feel like friendship. You always had doubt, especially when she walked up to the Hat during your first year, the Hat took ages.

You didn't know you were doing it then, but you had kept repeating in your head, '_Please be a Slytherin. Please. Please. Please be a Slytherin_.'

She was called a Gryffindor, and you realised any kind of friendship with her was lost. Her brown eyes founded yours, and they were apologetic and sad, as they were amused-annoyed, in some way, as she mouthed, '_Stupid sodding Hat,' _you knew she had been thinking she'd be a Slytherin too.

You remember the smile she sent your way, before you're sorting, after it, before hers, and after she was called a Gryffin-dork.

You loved the fact that she had traits from every house. She pranked Slytherins – ones you called 'annoying' frequently – she pranked the sad excuses for Hufflepuffs, but you knew she pranked the Slytherins with less vindication. You were never her target, Blaise had been once though. Until she knew he was slowly becoming your best friend.

She pranked Ravenclaws for being prudes, and nerds. She pranked Granger – and somehow, they ended up being civil to each other during Sixth Year – she pranked a few Weasleys, (as in Ronald, Ginerva, Percival, never wanting to prank the Twins, in fear they were better and more vicious).She was always pranking Weasel though, and you seemed a little happy when you knew she wanted attracted to _that_.

She had her reasons for hating Weaslette, that she currently doesn't hate, and they're seen together more often than not. She pranked Potter twice, but she didn't hate him the way you thought you did. You thank him for saving your life, and he thanks you (silently as always, you two) for saving his.

You don't remember when you fell in love with her many flaws, but you loved her clumsiness. You loved the moments when she was 'ditzy'. Normally, someone descried the person they love as _flawless_ and _perfect_ but Amelia Scarlett was none of those.

You loved her for it too, because you knew that her imperfections made her beautiful.

You loved every bit; you loved the fact that she had come a long way from that insecure fourth year. She used to call herself ugly – you watched every day, but did nothing – she used to believe she was useless.

She used to believe no one could love her, and you changed that, and you didn't know it. That one kiss you shared when you were sixteen, barely.

You had turned sixteen during June the fifth barely sixteen that night, but with one kiss. She knew that someone in the world cared.

You remember those passionate nights you shared, and fuck, she looked better every day. Sh always looked more confident with herself, she started believing the rejection you gave after the sex, was more yourself convincing everyone – including yourself – that you didn't feel a single things. She knew you loved her before you knew it, and that was the reason she was more confident.

You don't know it, as you walk away from all of the memories, the kisses you shared – that you gave her purpose. You made her feel wanted and loved, and you had made a vow that day in the Great Hall to love and protect her.

_You don't know it yet, but breaking up with you will be the thing, when she looks back on her years at Hogwarts, she will regret. You don't know how much it kills her to break up with you, and you when you look back at the times that she said 'I love you', you don't believe her, but right now, she loves you more than__** anything**__. _

_She has her reasons, which are merely excuses. She wants to take it back, but she can't, she doesn't. She does something she isn't proud off; she does something that would make Gradric Gryffindor frown. She runs away like a coward. She didn't feel like a Gryffindor in that moment – just a scared kid, who was afraid of commitment. _

_She remembers passing Blaise in the hallway, he had grinned and asked, "When's the big day?"_

_She hadn't understood then, but it was all so clear when she got on that plane to France. _

"_Fuck," was all she would mutter when the plane took flight, her dad would scold her for such language – silently _

_**You had planned to ask her to marry you tonight, **__and she had broken up with you before you had the chance._

**A/N: **_I hope this gives an insider of how Amelia's and Draco's relationship had been – in sixth year, it was filled with denial. During seventh year, he manages to tell her he loves her in the middle of a Battle. _

_Yes, cliché. But she loves cliché things, but not because it's 'sappy' and 'romantic' no, bit because they are aware they're being cheesy. _

_I hope it didn't look cliché or anything like that. It wasn't supposed to me happy, at the start it was supposed to show how happy he was, and at the end, was to show how devastated he is. The one other person who stayed by his side through all the whispers, and points of 'He fought on the Dark Side', and then all of a sudden she breaks up with him. That would probably hurt. _

_Tell me what could be fixed, and I'll go back and fix it. Anything you don't understand, I can write it into the story line to help..._

_I do hope you understand that Amelia was never proud of running, Draco had been hers then and he isn't now. _

_I was thinking about writing another one-shot about when she comes back, a year after Astoria gives birth to Scorpius...and how Draco sees Amelia again after six years. _

_What do you think? _

_Please review I would appreciate it dearly! _

_Whenever someone reviews and tells me what they like and what they don't, or what i should change, it helps me know what I am doing right and what I am doing wrong. It helps me learn, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated – it helps me be a better writer._

_It helps to make future chapters or one-shots made by made, more enjoyable for you. _

_Until the next time I update anyone of my stories, _

_Ely xx _


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